into the cold basement. from the emptying room. rough week.
the shifting of good to bad is quick and abrupt.
unanticipated. i'm selfish. i'm things that i despise in my
enemies. why is it that i make direct and obvious
contradictory decisions? i'm in the business of hurting
innocent bystanderds who had the misfortune of standing too
close to the cage. reeled in just enough to inflict stinging
and seemingly unintended pain. And they come back for more.
they always do. until i've corroded too much of their
spirit. i'm neurotic. i look around when i'm talking to
people. i'm doomed to repeat these mistakes. i also don't
like self-loathing. but it's all true. what is a boy to do?
Written nearly 3 weeks ago, this is a tale of young man
released from the psych ward too soon. Clearly. Depression -
a formidable foe. An icy grasp hard to shake. A cold stare
cutting through the facade. Reality unclothed has an awkward
He came dancing accross the water with his stallions and guns.
Good Will Hunting is a very good movie. Cortez the Killer is
a very good song.
I could talk in metaphors all night as I could turn back the
Here is my impression of apathy. I don't give a fuck.
What cripples me more?
A cancre sore mocks me.
The only reason to live now is masturbation. I'll be in my
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